Keep Calm, we’re going to Ibiza

Nothing says ‘settling into adulthood responsibilities’ like packing a suitcase full of glitter and running away to Ibiza for four days. But when you’re a 20 something in the midst of career and relationship chaos, any opportunity for spontaneous sunshine is welcomed with Gypsy Shrine decorated open arms (that’s unicorn and mermaid inspired body glitter, obviously].

From moving cities, travelling the world or opting for the more financially viable ‘fuck it, book it and go holiday’ (my personal favourite), many post Quarter Life Crisis survivors talk of making impulse decisions as a way of finding direction or ‘getting out’ of the autopilot.

Sitting on a quiet beach, cocktails in hand and using the apartment mattress as a gigantic balcony cushion were four of the most relaxing days I’ve had in a long time (says the woman who spends a large proportion of normal life napping). But any life guru will tell you, you can’t run away forever.

I learned that lesson one evening when I stepped out of the bathroom and slipped head over arse on the tiled floor. The hoover and the 192 didn’t follow me to Ibiza (thankfully) but my clumsy feet did!

I thought you might be going out there for a rave, connotations of Brits abroad not being overly positive. BUT! Great to see you’ve enjoyed the natural beauty of the place and properly chillaxed. Now we just have storm Brian to deal with oop norf. Bwwwian, eh?